She pulled back and frowned. “You okay?”
“Damn simulation. How’s this for fair? I don’t get sick from the EMFs when we fire rail guns, but I start getting excited inside this place and it makes me squeamish.”
“Excited, hmm? Nice excuse, Davie. It’s alright if you’re not interested. That’s why you want to get back to Mars, isn’t it? You’ve got another pretty bird to listen to?”
“Not interested?” I spluttered. “No, no, no. This is no excuse, Lib. I’d just rather we be in person. It feels right for us to be in person. Skin to skin. This place we’re in, it—it just isn’t real.”
“I feel the same.” She put her arms around me and squeezed. It sure felt real.
“Damn the rules. It’s bullshit. Why can’t things just be easy?”
“Like they were when we were teenagers?”
“Yeah, when we didn’t have to worry about ranks and class and people killing us. You know, all this adult, ‘grown up’ bullshit. Back then we could be ourselves as much as we wanted to. We could be this!” I mimicked her earlier arm wave.
“That’s what the world is missing.” She kissed me again and it was wonderful. “The freedom to be who we are.”
“Without all the hang-ups and hoops and red tape.”
She laid a palm on my right cheek and raked her fingers through my hair. “Then it’s settled. Let’s do what we can to survive and leave it all behind.”
“You sure?”
“I am.”
I tipped my head. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
It was a wonderful dream, a fantastical fantasy, with a splendid third act and many guest appearances, but it would never come to pass. Our destiny was already written, and we could feel it in our bones.
This mission would be our undoing.
[Log]
Text LOG #67 with Captain (Goddard’s watch).
03:00
Captain: Goddard?
03:01
Captain: Goddard? Where are you?
03:03
Captain: Damn it, Goddard. Where the hell are you!
03:05
Captain: Goddard, you better pick up now. You hear me?
Goddard: I was sleeping, sir. It’s 3 in the morning. What’s the matter?
Captain: No crewmembers are awake but for Graham and Stone and me. Yet VR simulations are currently running on the information network.
Goddard: Is that so?
Captain: Some place in the Swiss Alps. Two simulations are fixed on a place near Zurich. For some reason I can’t tell who started them even though I’m the super admin.
Goddard: What are you saying?
Captain: The target is working with someone. They’ve got to be. They’re using this method to communicate.
Goddard: I wouldn’t worry about it, sir. Seems a sloppy way to make contact?
Captain: Why’s that, Goddard? Terrorists in the Oil Wars used an MMORPG internet game to communicate tactical information through whispers.
Goddard: No reason, I guess. Just a feeling. It’s probably a glitch. I can have Griffin look at it.
Captain: I’m not sure if I trust your feeling.
Goddard: Sir?
Captain: Nothing. Proceed with caution.
[14]
I tried to be sensible all things considered, I really did, but sensible feelings were hard to come by. Impulse was taking control of my actions and its power was absolute. It made not dwelling on the pain easier. Maybe I couldn’t run from my mistakes forever, but I could shelter in her affections for a time.
I know my father would have understood. He’d always told me to follow my heart and damn the rest.
The day after Liberty and I had shared the simulation we tried meeting in person. After a couple close calls between the Captain and Navigation, we broke it off, deciding it was best not to happen.
Nevertheless, we talked constantly over our private signal, dropping flirtatious promises wherever possible. My body practically buzzed with the prospects our future held. This wasn’t an if anymore, it was a when. When would all these sardines just go to sleep, one happy, slumbering school? All we needed were a few minutes alone to release the tension. And to be honest, I was getting tired of being reminded of this during staff meetings when my jumpsuit went tight.
“Father’s been focusing on his tablet a lot lately,” Liberty said as I strolled towards the aft of the ship, passing Lank Hair and Higgins, and trying not to meet their eyes. I was getting tired of the ill gaze Lank Hair had been giving me. It was as if he was saying, you killed César. But I knew it wasn’t true. Right?
“Is that so?” I swallowed. “What’s he doing?” Hopefully not watching my every move. If he watched too closely, Liberty and I were caught for sure. She didn’t know that, of course. I wondered if I should tell her now.
“Can’t tell, he keeps the screen hidden from view. I think he’s talking to someone. Maybe someone at command?”
My watch vibrated, a message appearing on the face: SECURE NUCLEAR STOREAGE AND LOOK FOR ANY TAMPERING. CHECK RAD LEVELS.
I rolled my eyes. That was part of my weekly routine. I was off to do it anyways. No ill signs had appeared as of yet. I was starting to wonder if all this worry was over nothing. I’d found no real signs of tampering. No evidence of anything seriously damaging, just regular wear and tear. With every day that passed, I was starting to believe less and less that the target had beaten me within an inch of my life. It was probably just some hopped up idiot playing knight in shining armor. Could have even been Devins, that asshole. I watched my back just in case.
“He’s doing it again,” she said. “Right now.”
“Where are you?”
“The bridge’s conference room. I’m waiting on Rosaleigh to get back so we can finish our game of gin.”
“Gin rummy? Too bad.” I leaned against the bulkhead of the power core, trailing a finger over fresh graffiti. Two stick figures were facing one another, pistols drawn, their lines in black marker. “Seriously, you’re playing gin? Hot damn, isn’t that an old person game?” I turned to the right and saw the drawing’s companion. Who’d done this? It was almost exactly the same as the first, but in this frame the cartoon man on the right’s head was exploding, while as the man on the left was leaning to the side attempting to dodge the bullet heading straight for him.
“Perhaps, but there’s been no action lately. Nothing else to do. Though, Davie, I’ve been trying to find some of my own. Heh. Either we’re still hidden or the Axis just gave up.”
I chuckled. “Maybe we scared ’em off. I wouldn’t be shocked if they could smell our nervous sweat from here. It has to stink to high heaven.”
“Whatever. Think you’ll be able to sneak off to my forest base later? There’s a stretch of soft dirt I wouldn’t mind being laid out on.” Her voice purred at the end. She sure got off on being bad.
“I’ve got the right tools for the job,” I assured her. “And a bit of practice beside.”
“Practice? Wait, hang on. How much practice we talking about?”